


Sanguis

by aishahiwatari



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Sex, Biting, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Blood and Violence, Hand Jobs, Healer Leonard McCoy, Human/Vampire Relationship, Kissing, M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Oral Sex, Pain, Shapeshifting, Supernatural Elements, Vampire Jim Kirk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:54:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22050634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aishahiwatari/pseuds/aishahiwatari
Summary: There was a kid in the fridge.The locked, sealed, secure walk-in fridge in the basement of what Leonard frankly considered to be his hospital.And not actually a kid. Early twenties, maybe. Probably old enough to drink, although the guilty expression and huge, wide blue eyes contributed to the illusion of youth.“Think you can fix this, Doc?”And he took Leonard’s hand, his cool fingers -how long had he been in the damn fridge?- pressing two of Leonard’s to the pulse point in his wrist. Hard. Instinctively, Leonard corrected the grip; he couldn’t feel anything, was in the wrong place. Except he wasn’t.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Pavel Chekov/Montgomery "Scotty" Scott, Spock/Nyota Uhura
Comments: 46
Kudos: 103





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The non-consensual blood-drinking is mentioned, and occurred between Jim and an OC.
> 
> Now with COVER ART!!! I honestly cannot express how grateful I am to [Sobre](https://lejoursobre.tumblr.com/) for creating something so wonderful. I am not worthy.

There was a kid in the fridge.

The locked, sealed, secure walk-in fridge in the basement of what Leonard frankly considered to be his hospital.

And not actually a kid. Early twenties, maybe. Probably old enough to drink, although the guilty expression and huge, wide blue eyes contributed to the illusion of youth.

Instinctively, Leonard blocked the door. The kid was slim, his bare arms bound in ropy muscle but Leonard was broader and stronger. Or so he thought, until the kid dropped instinctively into a defensive stance. God fucking damnit.

“You gotta let me out of here, Doc. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“And I don’t want the boy on my operating table to bleed to death. What you’ve got there’s my last unit of AB neg. He needs it. More than you.”

“You don’t know that.” But the kid’s shoulders slumped as he looked down at the bag in his hands.

“Look. Whatever you’ve done-“

“Why do you assume I did something!”

Leonard sighed, did his best to project calm in the face of outraged petulance. “Whatever it is that happened, if somebody needs medical attention, you can bring ‘em to me. You can’t just go messing around with blood. Or, if you’re playing some game, butcher’s got plenty of pig blood-“

“It doesn’t work!” The kid lifted his arm like he was about to throw the bag in his frustration and Leonard took a step forward instinctively. He really, really needed that bag. The city was hours away, wouldn’t deliver in time to save the boy.

Something of that must have shown on his face because the kid looked almost apologetic. Doubtful. Small, and lost. Leonard was getting to him.

“Whatever it is, I can help you. That unit and an hour is all I need, then I swear on my daddy’s grave-“

“Oh, sure! You just want to leave me in here while you rat me out to the sheriff!”

“Nobody’s ratting anybody out to anybody, kid. Unless you take that, and you hurt me, and you kill that poor boy who fell out of his treehouse. You take that boy away from his loving family and I swear I will hunt you down personally. Never mind the sheriff.”

The kid looked at the bag, then back up at Leonard. Brave, or desperate, Leonard took another step forward. The kid was sick, he could see, pale in the fluorescent lighting, eyes sunken, cheekbones pronounced just a little more than was attractive. Leonard’s heart clenched, his subconscious diagnosing even if he couldn’t put the words to it yet.

“Whatever it is, I can help you.”

They were within touching distance, then, and very slowly Leonard reached out.

“Really?” The kid’s voice made him start a little, but it was doubtful and resigned rather than a challenge. “Think you can fix this, Doc?”

And he took Leonard’s hand, his cool fingers -how long had he been in the damn fridge?- pressing two of Leonard’s to the pulse point in his wrist. Hard. Instinctively, Leonard corrected the grip; he couldn’t feel anything, was in the wrong place. Except he wasn’t. Shit.

He pulled his hand away. “How did you get in here? There are wards against your kind on this door.”

The kid shrugged, and he was young. Too young to have died, to have been turned. Too young to live forever. 

“I disarmed them.”

“Disarmed- damnit, kid. That was some of Sheriff Pike’s finest work.”

The kid just shrugged again, and Leonard ran a hand through his hair with a sigh. He couldn’t believe he was even contemplating it.

“Look. You need blood, and God knows I’d rather you got it in here than from some naive young thing’s throat. But your kind ain’t fussy.” Leonard hesitated, hated himself, couldn’t stand that he was letting himself fall for another set of sad blue eyes in a pretty face. “I got plenty of A negative that’ll expire before the month’s up. I’ll give you two of those. You give me that. If you’re gone by the time I finish surgery I won’t say a word.”

The kid’s eyes strayed to the smudged paint of the arcane symbols adorning the inside of the fridge door.

“I’ll tell the sheriff I found it open. No more.” Leonard resisted the urge to look at his watch. There wasn’t long before the boy needed that blood, and the thought of it made his brow crease, his voice crack. “Kid, please. He’s six. He loves football. His baby sister’s in floods. I just wanna save him.”

The kid’s voice was a whisper. “You won’t tell Pike?”

Well, he was right to be scared of the sheriff. “I swear.”

And, finally, the kid nodded. Leonard nearly sobbed so great was his relief, was hardly paying attention when he crossed to a second locker within the first, set deep in the wall and worked the lock. Good old-fashioned steel, that one. No damned magic that could just be picked apart by someone with a mind for it. He was intent, focussed on his task with tunnelled vision until he heard the gasp behind him.

Vampires didn’t even breathe, but apparently some reflexes remained. Leonard yanked two bags off the A negative rack and slammed the door on the remaining stock, turned to find the kid plastered back against the wall and unnecessarily panting. Okay. So maybe it had been a little short-sighted to suddenly flash litres of blood at a starving vampire, but Leonard did not have the time to care.

“Two. As promised. Now hand it over.”

The kid just stared for a moment. “Why did you show me that? I could come back here, with all my friends.”

“If you got friends, where the hell are they?” Leonard just glared, losing patience he hadn’t exactly been flush with already, holding out the bags. “Time’s wasting, kid, c’mon.”

With a start, the kid snapped to it, handing over his bag while simultaneously snatching Leonard’s offered two, clutching them to his chest as though he were worried Leonard might change his mind.

He didn’t have to worry about that. Leonard had already turned, was halfway out the door. “Show yourself out!” He barked over his shoulder, then hurried to scrub up again for surgery.

-

After surgery, Leonard was hugged by gratefully sobbing parents; called the sheriff's office and left a message for Pike with Deputy Uhura; staggered home -down one building and across the street- and collapsed on to his bed, still in his blood-stained scrubs. The sheets needed a wash anyway.

When he woke up, he met the wary blue eyes of the vampire curled in his armchair and groaned.

"My damned wards," he grumbled, tempted to bury his head under his pillow and noticing he was covered with a blanket he was sure had been in the living room.

"I set them again."

"Excluding the part where there's a vampire in my bedroom watching me sleep?"

"Well that's not specifically covered, but it's just set to me, if you were wondering."

Leonard laughed a little at that. "You don't share your food?"

Even bleary as he was, Leonard saw something dim in those eyes, harden in the set of the kid's jaw.

"You helped me. So I helped you. Sheriff can't protect everyone."

Leonard closed his eyes, took a deep breath, reached out with his senses. While he had been reliably informed that he would never have the subtlety or focus for enchantment, he had enough of a vague feeling for the art to marvel at the solid wall he came up against. Pike's wards had been like a network of threads, tightly meshed, nothing compared to the fortress that surrounded him then.

Gently, he was guided to the veins of colour running through, knew they reflected the people who had been admitted previously, minus the few implied, polite consents. It was with a gasp that he returned to himself, like falling back into his own body. For a moment, he just breathed.

"You got a thing against mailmen?" he asked, as he dragged himself into a sitting position, rubbed at his face.

"You have a mailbox. And anybody can carry mail. Doesn't mean they won't also hurt you."

Maybe the kid had a point. "That paranoia or experience talking?"

The kid's pointed silence said it all. Leonard snorted, then spotted the mug on his bedside table, still steaming. "Did you make me coffee?"

He didn't know how to feel about that, settled on bemused rather than necessarily pleased -and wasn't that just an emotional minefield- or unsettled. Since he was in no position to tell the kid what to do, he supposed he should just feel grateful that he hadn't tried to kill him.

Not yet, all his childhood training argued that he should add. Hadn't tried to kill him yet.

The coffee was hot, black, untampered with. Just the way Leonard liked it. He sipped, regarded the kid through the steam. He looked better, even with the petulantly defensive pout, so inescapably human. His lips were plush and pink, the slightest flush across his pale cheeks. Evidence of the blood in his system. The blood that Leonard had illegally provided. That, he knew at that moment, he would provide again. Fuck.

"What's your name?" he asked, because he was already screwed and he needed to stop thinking of this man, this creature, as harmless.

He felt a little guilty for the cautious smile he received in return. "Jim."

So fucking normal. Leonard frowned so he didn't flinch at the reminder that -before- Jim had been human. Like him.

"And you are Doctor Leonard McCoy." Jim added, brightly, and if Leonard hadn't had myriad framed certificates proclaiming that on various walls of his house, he might have been impressed. 

"Smartass," he muttered, hauling himself to his feet and finally taking in his own blood-stained attire. God, he was a mess. Hopefully by the time he'd had a shower, some of the fog in his brain might have cleared and he'd have more of an idea of what to do with his new houseguest.

He peeled off his scrubs top, stiff with blood, Jim's eyes tracking every movement. Leonard eyed him a little doubtfully. "I smell like a buffet to you?"

Jim wrinkled his nose. "You smell like death," he said, then added, at Leonard's arched brow, "That's a no."

Leonard decided not to ask why death, to Jim, smelled like so much spilled blood.

He was halfway through shampooing his hair for the second time when he realised that learning Jim's name had done nothing to stop all that had been implied by giving him a nickname. There was an instinctive part of Leonard that wanted to protect, to reassure and keep safe, whether Jim could have snapped his neck in an instant or not. Whether he could pierce his pulsing jugular and just wait for the life to flow out of him, hot and vital, in a matter of minutes.

Dimly, Leonard was aware that the thought should not have made him half-hard. He refused to acknowledge it, vigorously soaping until his skin felt raw and tingling. It wasn't a solution, but it would do until after breakfast. Or lunch, really, since his surgery hadn't finished until the early hours and he had slept like the dead all morning.

Jim was gone from his bedroom when Leonard stepped out, probably for the best since he was clad only in a towel, far too many pulse points exposed. He dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and sweats, no intention of leaving the house until the heat of the day had died down a little. Probably a hard time to be a vampire, mid-summer. As though there were any time it would be easy. 

He caught a glimpse of Jim, curled on the couch in the den, under a blanket, the blackout blind down. He'd moved the coffee machine in there even though he didn't have a cup himself, avoided the kitchen that Leonard loved for how light and airy it was. There was leftover roast beef in the fridge, and Leonard assembled a sandwich using the last of his bread, contemplating his grocery shop.

Then for some reason he went to sit at the other end of the couch in the den, shoving Jim's feet out the way to make space. Jim was wearing jeans and socks with a black tee, his leather jacket thrown in the corner. Even under the blanket, his skin was cool, a constant reminder that they were inhabitants of different worlds.

But the blanket was soft, fluffy and pink and Jim had one of Leonard's books cracked open on his knee, a finger tucked inside to mark the page as though he had actually been reading it even though nobody had ever looked twice at Leonard's gothic classics before except to mock them. And he looked up with a smile that made Leonard's chest feel tight, like he was actually pleased to see him. He hadn't seen a smile like that in a long time.

Hadn't found anybody who hadn't made him want to run away screaming at the very thought of the expectations, the commitments, the imminent betrayal that came along with such smiles. And for some reason, the inhuman man sitting in front of him, toes surreptitiously burrowing under the warmth of Leonard's thigh, felt like he might be worth the risk.

Leonard didn't trust easily. It hardly made sense that a man with a nature far closer to a monster -were Leonard's education to be believed- should penetrate his emotional barriers as soundly as he did the magical ones around the most valuable things in Leonard's life. He knew, of course, that it was ridiculous to feel so much trust in an essential stranger whose only relevant qualification had been the ability to allow him to sleep for a single night without murdering him. He knew.

But God, that smile.

Leonard had been staring, Jim's expression shifting to curiosity as he did, before he cleared his throat and collected himself.

"Can you eat?" he asked, before he took the first bit of his sandwich, all-too ready to feel like a terrible host to an uninvited -in fact, actively repelled- guest.

"Maybe. If I've- fed. Kind of hoping-" Jim bit his lip, a little sheepish, and Leonard could see the skin pale where his teeth dug in. "Once I get more used to it, it'll be easier."

"Used to- shit, kid, when were you turned?"

Something twitched in Jim's jaw before he reluctantly confessed. "Thursday."

"You've been a vampire for four days."

"Uh-huh."

Leonard had a sinking feeling beyond the abject grief that was threatening to take hold. "And before the hospital. Had you- fed?"

Jim shuddered at that, although it wasn't clear whether it was Leonard's hesitation or the phrasing that had caused it.

"I tried the butcher. Like you said. Animal blood. It sort of- kept the worst urges at bay. And- when it got real bad-" Jim squeezed his eyes shut, cringing against tears that would maybe never fall, and Leonard resisted the urge to go searching around under the blanket to find his hand and hold it tight. "I went to a bar and found a girl who thought I was hot and was too drunk to really know what was going on. I didn't hurt her, I just- God-" Jim's hands emerged, then, so he could bury his face in them. "It was so instinctive. We were just in some alleyway and I had my fingers inside her and I bit at her neck until I couldn't stand it any more and I sunk my teeth in. Her blood poured out. It was like-" there, Jim had the decency to grimace as he glanced up at Leonard. "I don't know if you've ever gone down on a guy."

Leonard was startled into a bark of laughter at the comparison, hated how vivid the description was. "You don't strike me as someone with much of a gag reflex, kid."

Jim's eyes went wide for a moment before he laughed, too, half-sobbing with restrained emotion as he continued. "She didn't notice. I'd been a little rough. She said she liked it. And she was- close. She screamed and I nearly threw up but it was- the good kind of screaming. I was terrified she'd die that way. But once I- opened my throat for a minute, I just sort of knew how I could lick so the wounds would heal right up. I'd always thought that was a myth.

"That was when I felt the life she'd given me," Jim hung his head, stared at his hands, mouth twisted in disgust. "It was a rush. Like a relief, but- a peak, somehow. I felt like my heart had started beating again."

That was it. Leonard pulled the blanket away, hooked an arm under Jim's legs to lift them and shift himself beneath them. Jim looked surprised but pleased by the change in position, bent his knees and wriggled until he was comfortably almost in Leonard's lap, the blanket back and draped over both of them. He was the one who found Leonard's hand, clutching it between both of his, a blessed cool relief.

"I'm so sorry, kid," Leonard said. "I didn't know."

"I'm sorry, too. About that boy you were operating on. I'm so glad you stopped me, I never wanted to hurt anyone and I hate this for what it makes me want to do and how fucking good it all feels. I just-" hesitantly, Jim laid his head on Leonard's shoulder, relaxed by increments when he was neither chastised nor shoved off. "I'm so fucking grateful for you."

Jim's hair was soft as silk when Leonard ran his fingers through it, to a mewling sound of encouragement. Vaguely, he knew things were moving too fact. Far more clearly, he never wanted to stop. He'd heard of a vampire's thrall, their overwhelming charisma and ability to push people into doing things far beyond the norm, but- well. If Jim's deepest desire was to cuddle with him, they could both benefit from a little affection. Harmless, Leonard told himself.

"I take it that drinking it from the bag doesn't give you quite the same rush."

If anything, Jim curled more tightly against him, all solid lines and sharp curves. "No. But a lot less guilt. It's worth the pay-off."

Yeah, Leonard was familiar with those sorts of decisions. He pressed his cheek to Jim's hair, frowned as he inhaled. "Did you use my shower?"

"Just the tub. I get cold."

"That why you're using me as a hot water bottle right now?"

There was a short pause before Jim raised a hand to touch Leonard's chest, gentle and carefully away from his suddenly pounding heart. "Well. Not the only reason."

"That's not a good idea, kid," Leonard told him, almost convincing until that delicate touch strayed over his nipple and his breath hitched involuntarily.

Jim just shrugged, demonstrating no intention of moving from Leonard's lap. "You feel good. And I can hear how your heart beats faster when you look at me. When you touch me. I know you want me. And you trust me in your space. What would be the harm?"

The worst thing was, Leonard was tempted. Jim was gorgeous, and it would have taken a stronger man than Leonard not to appreciate the hard lines of his body, especially when they were pressed so close together. But he was not the sort of man who could have conveniently forgotten about Jim's vulnerability, about his recent transition and his loneliness. There should have been someone to guide him, ideally the one who had turned him, but all he had was Leonard. And he wouldn't do that to him. As much as he wanted to.

And God, did he want to. Jim was right there, young and beautiful and willing, containing multitudes.

"I'm sorry, Jim. I can't."

"But-"

"No, Jim."

Jim sagged, hanging his head. "I won't hurt you," he said, with a little hitch in his voice. "I'm not a monster."

"I know that, kid. But- look, I'm not gunna kick you out or stop feeding you, so let's just- take some time and get used to this, okay? Neither of us are in any condition to be making that sort of decision right now."

"Will you-" Jim bit his lip with blunt, white teeth. He sounded a little more cautious, but still ventured, "Will you still touch me?"

"Christ, you do not make this easy." Leonard was willing to bet that Jim hadn't been shown enough affection before he was turned, either. It would certainly explain the association of sex with caring and warmth. "Touch you how?"

Jim very hastily suppressed a smirk, although not quickly enough to prevent Leonard from seeing it and rolling his eyes. How the hell could they possibly work so well together?

"Like- okay. Just hold my hands? Just sit with me- next to me. Under the blanket. And maybe, if you want, just let me lean on you. I won't push. I- want you. But I won’t push. If that's what you want."

"That's- it's for the best."

"You're probably right." Jim was impossibly breathless, so gorgeous, his lips full and pink and soft against Leonard's. His hair slipped through Leonard's fingers like silk, skin cool beneath Leonard's questing touches but warming with every touch. He made lovely little soft moans around the thrust of Leonard's tongue into his mouth and tasted like water from a mountain spring, crisp and clean. He could have snapped Leonard in half with the barest effort, but yet went easily when Leonard tugged at him, drawing him into his arms, bringing him around to straddle Leonard's thighs. They were still kissing, slow and unhurried, the rising sensations not of arousal so much as a bone-deep satisfaction, of rightness. Every moment that passed felt like it was filling an absence Leonard had never even noticed he had.

It was all too much.

Tearing himself away took a hard, physical wrench and a worse emotional one.

"What the hell was that?" he asked, panting through the feeling of loss, but Jim's eyes were wide, his own expression equally overwhelmed.

"I thought that was you."

"No, I've never-" Never what, Leonard wondered. Felt an all-consuming attraction like the one that was taking hold of him at that moment? Made out with a vampire on his couch?

Leonard felt drained, like he'd run a marathon. He was trembling, but Jim's palm against his cheek was cool and steady, his concerned expression apparently genuine.

His tone, too, when he said, "This is hurting you. We should stop."

"We should," Leonard agreed. Into Jim's mouth. "Fuck!"

"That'd be moving a little fast, don't you think?" Jim was considerably more in control if he could manage terrible jokes, Leonard thought, his breath catching as Jim nosed at his throat, just once, inhaling unnecessarily with a small mewling sound that should not have made Leonard's cock twitch hopefully. It was too much to hope it had gone unnoticed; Jim snickered at him as he withdrew, however reluctantly, back to the other end of the couch. The urge to touch faded only slightly when Jim huddled once more under his fuzzy pink blanket.

"What are you, like an empath or something?"

Leonard grimaced. "Or something. I can sense what's wrong with a person and I know how to fix them."

Most people thought that was amazing, a skill to be envious of. They expressed admiration and jealousy and were very impressed by the whole thing.

Jim just raised his eyebrows slightly and said, "That sounds like a lot of responsibility."

"It is. It's worth it, usually."

"But it's also why you live across the street from the hospital and all your cupboards are empty."

"I'm divorced too, wanna comment on that?"

Jim just smirked, but since Leonard hadn't been entirely serious either, he didn't mind. "Let me guess. You were emotionally unavailable. You cared too much about your patients and there was nothing left for you, let alone another person."

"Well there was much more cursing, but essentially yes. How about you? What is it you do?"

It had been a casual question, a natural progression in the conversation, but Jim sobered a little. "I used to be an enchanter." 

"You still are."

Leonard had been a little overly insistent, but Jim's answering smile was startlingly beautiful, if sad. "Can't exactly work like this. Can't really be a part of anything."

"The sunlight thing?"

"Yeah. It's not, like, instant death, but it burns like- well, like hell. Death is probably the wrong word. I'm already dead. Obviously."

"What happened?"

Jim didn't immediately answer, too busy looking ruefully at the pallor of the skin on the backs of his hands. Leonard wasn't going to push it, hadn't actually mean to ask at all but after a moment the words all seemed to come flooding out.

"I was just out. Drunk. Looking for a fight. Or a fuck. That's- I mean it was sort of my routine. I left home as soon as I could. Stepdad was kind of a jerk. I went from state to state. Town to town. Shitty motel to shitty motel. But I scraped enough together to live, got into one of those occult schools with a few forged letters of recommendation. I feel like they should have thought of that, when they asked me for them. It wasn't hard. I had enough time and energy left over for that routine. It wasn't so bad, for a few years. I think I actually made some friends.

"And then- Thursday. Apparently it's the new Friday. I had no idea what day it was. I got really drunk and hit on by this gorgeous guy. I mean, he was astounding. I would have gone to my knees and blown him in the middle of that bar if he'd asked. He actually declined that offer. Told me I could come back to his hotel. Guess I took a lot of chances with my own safety and that one taught me a lesson.

"And I have no idea why I told you about any of that and holy shit are you fixing me? Is that's what's happening right now?"

"No! I'm just- sympathetic." Leonard tried to argue, before he realised exactly how ridiculous it sounded. "Okay, maybe. But I didn't mean to. I think I'm just gunna go back to bed and hope this day makes more sense when I wake up."

"Join you?" Jim offered, although he blinked and wrinkled his nose instead of leering, as had been his first instinct. "It doesn't have to be a sex thing. We can just sleep."

"Can we?"

"I mean, technically I can't, but-"

"So you'd like to lay awake in my bed while I sleep?"

"Yeah, when you put it like that it sounds awful, but- check this out-" Jim stood, sort of shook himself off, and _shifted._ A moment later, Leonard was looking at a gorgeous wolfhound with startling blue eyes.

Gorgeous, thankfully, in a different way to Jim as a man. Leonard felt no sexual inclination towards the animal at all, although he did bury his fingers in thick fur when Jim managed to squirm free of his clothing and rested his head on Leonard's knee.

"Alright, but you better not moult. And you hump anything, I'll get you fixed, just see if I don't."

Jim gave a little whine that Leonard tried to tell himself wasn't disappointed. There would be no humping. By either of them.

Thankfully, Jim did seem to be on the same page, burrowed under the covers and curled up on Leonard's legs like a very heavy blanket.

And if Leonard took a little nap after reading his book for a while and woke up with his hands buried in soft fur, Jim a comforting weight against his chest, well, nobody needed to know.

-

He woke up feeling more level, if still sort of lethargic. He had been working too hard recently, nothing to stop him from giving his all to his patients since Doctor Boyce had left management in his hands. That same situation was going to work to his advantage, though, when it came to stealing blood from the refrigerator. Leonard was already planning ahead, ready to order a couple more units than he needed. Blood couldn't be stored indefinitely. Expired packets were thrown out all the time, so what did it matter if he recycled a couple? It was better than selling them on the black market like he knew a few former colleagues of his had, previously. At least he knew where they were going.

No matter how he tried to justify it to himself, though, he still felt guilty, at least until he laid eyes on Jim again, back in his human form and snuggled up on the couch with his blanket and a hot water bottle, busy devouring books. For all the drawbacks of vampirism, the transformation would only have enhanced what Leonard suspected had already been an above-average intelligence. Jim barely seemed to glance at a page before he turned it, even with the older classics, the language almost impenetrable.

It had been a long time since Leonard had felt like he had the energy and focus to really get into a book. All he'd been reading recently were medical journals and he suspected he was somewhat behind on those as well. He had grown complacent; there wasn't much call for cutting-edge surgical techniques in their small town.

Maybe they could help him with something else, though. He crossed to the bookcase, shelves straining with the weight of all the volumes accumulated over not just his own relatively short career, but his father's as well, and began to skim through subject headings. He had an online account that should have allowed him to search in seconds, even in the old volumes that had been retroactively digitised, but he didn't want his interest flagging up on the system.

There weren't many papers on vampires anyway, since they were notoriously difficult to study and all-but impossible to autopsy. General references mentioned their increased strength, reflexes and intelligence, although understandably few studies had been conducted to show the comparative difference before and after the transformation.

Before and after death, Leonard corrected himself. The articles were dry and formal, avoiding defining vampires as victims even though it was practically impossible for anybody to be transformed accidentally. Some misguided souls volunteered, but reading between the lines it seemed that they were often lost to their own altering mental state shortly afterwards. There were some accounts of relationships where one party had been transformed and the other had followed.

It seemed, by all accounts, that it caused some undefined change in people. They became more withdrawn, or more outgoing, gaining confidence in themselves while losing it in others. There were no records of any relationship, romantic or otherwise, being sustained longer than a couple of years, whether both parties were changed or not. Contact was often lost with the changed party entirely, their fate unknown.

Leonard sighed. He had been hoping for a little more practical medicine than psychology but apparently the larger academic community had different priorities. Clearly none of them had had a vampire curled up on their couch, getting hungrier -thirstier?- by the minute. Jim had lasted four days with only a few pints to sustain him, although there had been some pigs blood to tide him over. He might have to procure more, through whatever illicit means he had used the first time, since Leonard was unlikely to be able to do so without arousing suspicion.

"What are you doing?" Somehow, Jim spoke right in Leonard's ear without having announced his approach in any way. Leonard tried not to read too much into the fact that he didn't flinch, even knowing that sharp fangs were in easy reach of his jugular.

"Trying to figure out how to keep you fed."

Strong arms snaked around Leonard's wait, hands delving under the hem of his shirt, a chin resting on his shoulder. "You're keeping me?"

"If you want to stay." Relationships only went wrong with those who had known each other prior to the change, didn't they? So there was no reason why they couldn't work out. He had only ever known Jim as a vampire.

"I'll get you in trouble." Jim's low voice felt as much like a kiss as the lips he pressed to the sensitive spot behind Leonard's ear. He slid his hand down Leonard's stomach, slipping beneath his waistband with ease to gently cradle his stirring cock. When Leonard sagged against him, Jim held him up effortlessly, his other hand coming up to press flat on Leonard's sternum. Over his pounding heart.

"Sometimes," Leonard breathlessly agreed, hips twitching. He had thought he was better at resisting temptation but Jim wasn't so much tearing down his boundaries so much as squeezing through the cracks. "Was sort of hoping that occasionally trouble could be in me."

Jim's fingers twitched, the only indication that he had heard in the moments before he dissolved into helpless laughter, dragging Leonard down with him until they were both in a heap on the floor, legs tangled. Jim pushed and shoved and manoeuvred until he had Leonard flat on his back, crawling over him for a proper kiss made difficult by the fact that he was still beaming with delight.

"I'm dead," Jim murmured, somewhat unnecessarily and kind of killing the mood, honestly, until he went on, "I thought that was it, for me. I thought I'd never laugh again. That I'd just feel this aching numbness forever, and nothing would ever be worth caring about. Then I found you."

"Think it'd be more accurate to say I found you. Lurking in my fridge."

"Wasn't lurking." Jim pouted, but his eyes were bright.

"Would you prefer skulking?"

"Ugh, no."

"Looting?"

"Okay, technically I was looting. But I didn't break anything- that I couldn't fix! I can re-do those wards."

"Hey, come on." Leonard had to reach up to cradle Jim's face because he had stalled somewhat, a little panicked and definitely guilty. "The sheriff'll fix that. Should have done it today, in fact."

"I got in. Somebody else could, too."

"You- seen any other genius-level enchanter vampires in town?"

"I gotta keep you safe."

"You don't owe me anything." Leonard slid a hand under Jim's shirt, was momentarily distracted. "Wow, were you this fit- before?"

"Okay you are not allowed to read medical journals before we get naked anymore."

"God, I want to see you naked." Leonard could just imagine it, the hard, sculpted lines of Jim's body taut and defined and his to explore.

"Will you let me take a look at the wards at the hospital?"

"Will that make you keep your growly possessiveness to the bedroom?"

"Protectiveness. And no. I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe."

Leonard all-but growled, himself. He was no fainting damsel to be cossetted, damnit. But he really, really wanted to see and touch and taste what was under that shirt. "Fine."

"That's the spirit," Jim teased, but then they were kissing, Jim's tongue in Leonard's mouth distracted him from any token objection he might otherwise have made. Leonard rolled his hips upwards, Jim's thigh solid and toned between his, a delicious pressure exactly where he wanted it. Jim didn't let up, didn't need to pause or breathe, pulled away only for long enough to yank Leonard's shirt over his head and lick his lips before he was on Leonard again, hands roving in search of every spot that made Leonard twitch, pant and arch against him.

Overwhelmed, it was all Leonard could do to pull Jim's shirt up, too, getting his hands on the expanse of smooth, flawless skin stretched over toned muscle in a strong back. It was impossible not to notice the way Jim's body moved, or didn't, with the absence of the requirement to breathe; the cool temperature of his skin; how wary he was of his teeth.

"You gonna lose your mind and savage me if you so much as scratch?" Leonard had to know, making the most of Jim's horrified pause to yank his shirt off and throw it across the room.

"No. But-" Jim nosed at Leonard's cheek to urge him to tilt his head, and buried his nose in the curve of Leonard's throat. "You smell so good. There's a part of me just wants to consume you. Make you mine." He pulled back to meet Leonard's eyes and his pupils were so dilated that there was only the slightest ring of bright blue. "I can hear your blood pumping. Smell how aroused you are. You're so fucking warm. Did you mean it? When you said I could be inside you?"

"So long as it does more for you than sticking your dick in a space heater."

"Would the space heater make sweet little encouraging moans, like-" Jim shifted his hips, sending delicious sparks of friction up Leonard's spine that would have had him making those very embarrassing noises had he not been ready and far too stubborn for his own good.

Jim's eyes flashed with the challenge, though, and it only took the slightest graze of his -yes, unnaturally sharp- teeth against Leonard's collarbone to have him whimpering helplessly.

"Oh, baby. You want me to savage you, just a little? Because it's not that I don't want to. I'm just worried that if I get a taste-" he nipped at Leonard's earlobe, then the curve of his jaw- "I won't be able to let you go."

Leonard couldn't think of a single reason to resist that. The thrill, the heart-pounding lust for the hopelessly gentle creature of destruction above him made him shiver. Jim's body was pressing him down into the carpet, heavy and undeniable. He felt like he was floating outside of his body when he said, "Bite me. I want you to."

"No, you don't." But Jim's mouth was at his neck, tongue flickering across Leonard's jugular and the slightest suggestion of teeth made Leonard feel like he might come just from the feel of it. He reached down, battling his sweatpants and Jim's jeans, the contortions of his body bringing his throat within easy reach and then away again, Jim's open mouth allowing a long, low snarl to escape until Leonard wrapped warm-hot fingers around Jim's cock and squeezed.

"I want you. All of you."

Fangs pierced his skin like ice cold needles, a sharp flare of agony and unbridled terror that mellowed into rushing adrenaline, Leonard's body relaxing incrementally with every rapid beat of his heart. He was a doctor and he should have known better but he had thought it would feel like the life was being sucked from him, dragged from beneath his skin by force but every instinct he had was telling him to submit as his body did the work for him. Arterial blood pumped out like a hosepipe and his energy arced away from him in pulses that should have panicked him. Instead he went lax and trusting, melting into the floor, Jim's body a cooling balm for the overheated flush of his own skin, the hollow of his hipbone perfect for the mindless thrust of Leonard's cock, hot and hard and leaking. He couldn't summon up any sort of objection beyond a helpless whimper, could see no reason to try.

The moment strong fingers wrapped around his cock, Leonard was lost, sparks whiting out his vision, an animalistic groan escaping his throat and echoed by the soft, broken gasp Jim gave in response. Leonard shuddered and trembled through his climax, come slicking the slide of Jim's body against his, skin tingling at every point of contact between them until Jim's hot, wet mouth lifted away with long, decadent lathes of his tongue, healing and soothing. Jim took Leonard's hand, slicked it with his own come and wrapped it around his cock, holding Leonard's fingers in a tight circle for him to thrust his hips into only a few times before he, too, came with a snarl.

Leonard wanted to kiss him, didn't quite dare as he held Jim close, rubbing his back with his clean hand to share warmth and just ouch his skin until he stopped trembling. Jim was panting too, unnecessarily, into Leonard's neck, supporting his weight on the elbow of one arm so he didn't crush him entirely.

"You taste-" Jim pressed soft, gentle kisses to Leonard's throat, right where he was beginning to realise he felt a little sore- "like life itself, when you come."

Something white-hot flared in Leonard's chest and lower at the words. "Jesus fuck. What does that even mean?"

"You taste like sunlight. The air when there's been fresh snow. Like getting your breath back after you've done something you weren't sure you'd survive."

"That's- disturbingly specific." But somehow Leonard knew exactly what he meant. He shifted with the vague intention of getting up so they could clean themselves off only for Jim to softly urge him to wait and set about licking him clean. Seeing Jim's pink tongue lapping at the rivulets of come dripping down his sides made him groan and nudge his slick fingers at Jim's lips until he licked and sucked every trace of their combined release from him, eyes half-lidded and expression rapturous all the while.

Leonard used the fingers of his now-clean hand to trace the pink flush across Jim's cheekbone and saw it darken just a little. He felt relaxed and sated and content, saw the same reflected back at him in gorgeous blue eyes that fluttered closed when Leonard leaned up for a kiss. Jim allowed the soft press of lips, reciprocated with gentle restraint but pulled back when Leonard lathed his bottom lip with his tongue.

Leonard let out a small noise of objection and Jim ducked his head, expression twisting with guilt as he ran his tongue over his teeth. "I'm still all bloody."

"It's my blood." Leonard shrugged, surprised himself with how genuinely little he cared once he'd levelled out a little, how much more important it was to taste himself on Jim's tongue, still warmed as he was by the very source of Leonard's life. "It's sort of romantic."

"Sure, if this was a YA novel." But Jim, even with his rueful smirk, was leaning down to seal their lips together, delving his tongue into Leonard's mouth. He was still warm, tasted coppery below the saltier overtones but it was by no means overwhelming, Jim's thirst too great to let any significant quantities of blood linger when they could be drunk to sustain him. They kissed until Leonard felt light-headed, his breathing becoming laboured as the room span around them, and Jim pulled back to regard him with concern.

"Did I hurt you?"

"Just- a little overwhelmed."

"I didn't take that much. I don't think. It's- difficult to quantify. God, what am I doing to you, this was just a bad idea-"

Jim's panic was decidedly not helping, Leonard's instincts fighting to combat it even as his vision faded at the edges. "Sit back a minute," he managed to urge in barely more than a whisper, shoving vaguely at Jim's chest until he drew back, giving them both space. With slow, laboured breaths, he managed to fight the darkness, forcing his mind back into the present, his focus back to himself. With his perception so attuned, Jim was almost a dark void, his life force hidden so deep that those without the Sight might well have missed it. To Leonard, though, it was like glimpsing the North Star in an otherwise dark night.

He dropped back into awareness with a gasp, but the world around him had levelled out enough for him to sit up, at least. Jim hovered, but wouldn't touch him, backed up when Leonard waved off his concern, slipped away to fetch Leonard's med-kit when asked. 

Leonard's vitals were normal, so he wasn't concerned about suffering too much due to blood loss. His head was pounding and his limbs felt a little rubbery, his body refusing to cooperate entirely when he stood up too fast,

So, maybe he could concede that there was something a little wrong with him. He was the type to fall hard and fast for a person, that was for sure, but he had never volunteered for, let alone anticipated blood-letting before and he had only known Jim a day.

He needed help.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s some weird and horrifying vampire lore I picked up from various unreliable sources in this chapter (probably in all the chapters). I don’t have appropriate medical references for any of it. Don’t feed your vampires like this, kids.

"Oh, he's gorgeous!" Pavel clapped his hands with deceptively childish glee on seeing Jim. Thankfully it was about the four-legged, furry version of him, or it would have been a little weird.

Still weird was the way Jim submitted for petting, nosing at Pavel's hand until he was given attention despite Leonard's own efforts that very morning to fulfil the human-shaped version of him. Well-fed and increasingly comfortable in Leonard's space, Jim was aggressively affectionate and Leonard could never think of an adequate reason to resist him. Didn't want to.

Jim had bitten him again, too, just a brief piercing of his jugular in the instant before he came, panting, into Jim's skilled hands.

"I didn't know you were thinking of getting a dog," Pavel went on, kneeling with both hands buried in Jim's fur. Stood behind him, Hikaru nodded to Leonard, vaguely bemused.

"This one sort of found me." Leonard gave a rueful shrug and waved everyone inside, Jim pressing unnecessarily close against Leonard's leg to shed fur all over his pants. He yipped and bounded off when Leonard swatted at him, rolling his eyes.

In his living room, the blinds closed against the worst of the daylight, Jim took refuge in the corner, under a table. Apparently the fur protected his skin from the worst of the light but it still made him itch and his eyes sting, even on an overcast day.

In the middle of the room, Pavel stopped with a frown, turning in place. "Did you re-do your wards?"

"Uhh, yeah. Had a visitor."

But Pavel's eyes were already unfocused, shining white, his mind traversing the otherworldly lines woven into the walls of Leonard's house.

"Visitor?" Hikaru was still listening, at least. He was an apothecarist, and even more thoroughly entrenched in the real world than Leonard was. 

"Vampire."

One of Leonard's windows cracked when Pavel snapped back into reality to stare at him. Jim made a sort of irritated huffing sound and rested his head on his front paws.

"You're still alive, though." Hikaru pointed out, somewhat unnecessarily. Not entirely unnecessarily , though, since neither of them had noticed that Leonard was, but his dog didn't appear to be.

"He was- friendlier than I'd expected. That's what I wanted to talk to the two of you about, actually."

"Well, nobody is getting in here without your permission, now. It's like a fortress."

"Many fortresses have broken windows?"

Pavel cringed. "Sorry. We should call the sheriff. Vampires in town- not good news."

"Vampire. Not vampires."

"They are like rats, Leonard, you never get just one."

"Yeah, about that, too-"

"Considering they are shapeshifters, they could be anywhere."

Leonard sighed. Pavel was hyper-intelligent, still so young, and with his attention often split between realms it could be difficult to keep him on track. “Well, he says they’re not.”

“Says? Present tense?” was Hikaru’s question, accompanied by a contemplative once-over, his gaze lingering on Leonard’s freshly-healed throat.

“It’s fine,” Leonard insisted. He had seen the flickering of power at Pavel’s fingertips, was careful not to let his gaze slip to Jim even though he could practically feel the tension in him.

“You’re not hurt?” Pavel sounded more surprised than concerned. His fingers still sparked, and the resulting shifts in energy were making Leonard feel light-headed.

“No, damnit, so stop!”

Pavel sat down in one of Leonard’s armchairs with a guilty pout.

Hikaru clapped Leonard on the back and ducked out of the room, going to make tea.

With a sigh, Leonard sank onto the couch, Jim curling up at his feet but keeping a cautious eye on Pavel.

“I’m sorry,” Leonard began, continuing even though Pavel waved his apology off. “I know it’s because you care.”

“No, I- forget you’re sensitive to that. It was my fault. I’ll fix your window.”

“It’s alright. I have a guy.”

“Does he want to take a look at my place, too?”

“If you don’t mind him stopping by after dark.”

Pavel frowned and his eyes went white again. When he spoke, it was vague and dreamy, with a strange echo that Leonard felt resonate deep in his chest. “He’s very good. These are almost impenetrable. Was he naturally inclined in life or has he obtained the skills since his transformation?”

“Little of both, I think.”

“I’d like to meet him.”

“You gunna call the sheriff?”

Pavel’s eyelids flickered a few times before he refocused, relaxing back in his chair and meeting Leonard’s gaze. “If you truly believe he is not a threat- I will take your word. Unless we start finding bodies.”

And he was young, but he had never given Leonard a reason not to trust him. It was why Leonard had called him in the first place, Hikaru too, because they might not have been the leading authorities on the topic, locally, but they were the most likely to actually offer assistance.

“Thank you. Go on.” Leonard nudged Jim with his foot, only to have him bury his face in Leonard’s knee with a whine. “Too bright? Sorry, honey.” He made to get up but Pavel was quick to catch on.

“I’ll get it,” he said, and waved a hand to close all the blinds, again to switch all the lights on. Leonard unsuccessfully suppressed a wince; Pavel had blown his fuses multiple times over the previous few years, although his control was improving.

Jim ducked out of the room in order to actually shift, rather than introducing himself by way of the unnatural-looking transformation back into his naked human form.

It was Hikaru who returned first, blinking at but not commenting on the change in lighting and pressing a mug filled with hot, thick brown liquid into Leonard’s hands.

“Restorative potion,” he said, at Leonard’s dubious look, throwing himself into the other armchair without spilling either his tea or the one he passed to Pavel. “Best I could do with what’s in your kitchen and my bag. I’ll fix you up a few more. Should help with the anaemia.”

“He’s feeding from you? Oh, Leonard.” Pavel sounded faintly appalled until Jim stepped back into the room, all coyly-bitten bottom lip and too-big sweater pulled down over his hands. Then, he muttered something in Russian containing the word Leonard recognised as _understand,_ and Hikaru snorted into his mug.

Then Jim replied with the Russian for _thank you,_ and Hikaru laughed out loud while Pavel turned somewhat pink. Leonard hid his smile behind his own drink, moved along the couch so Jim could settle in next to him in the seat closest to the door, the furthest from their guests.

“Hi, I’m Jim.”

Hikaru was the first to respond, Pavel still flushed and Leonard contemplating the somehow-grainy texture of his vaguely fruit-flavoured drink. “You’re not as pale as I thought you’d be.”

“When I’d fed, I’m not.”

“And I take it you’re feeding on Len.”

The way Jim’s gaze dropped guiltily was enough of an answer. Pavel’s eyes narrowed but Leonard’s hand found Jim’s knee.

“That’s why I called you. It’s not sustainable. I need to know if there’s anything else we can do. Anything that means he doesn’t have to kill anybody.”

Hikaru sighed. “That potion’ll help. But- I’d say that means you can afford to lose about a pint a week, instead of one a month. I’m no expert -you probably know more than I do- but to be full, he’d need about eight times that.”

“Jesus Christ.” Leonard’s heart sank. That was a lot. Far more than was really possible to get while still escaping notice. And- wait. “Are you hungry? Right now?” he had to ask, because Jim hadn’t consumed anything like that in the week he’d been turned. It was no wonder that towns and villages dreaded the arrival of a coven of vampires, if they would each kill at least one person a week.

“All the time,” Jim confessed in a low voice, without meeting his eyes. “It’s always there, in the back of my mind. This- _hunger.”_ His voice had slipped into a deeper register, but he blinked and shook his head, as though recalling himself. “Shit, sorry. I’d never hurt you. I’d leave before I did.”

“I’ll check my books,” Pavel offered, even as he eyed Jim warily. “Maybe a spell to dull the hunger, at least. Producing blood from nothing is of course out of the question. Enriching animal blood, somehow? I will think of something.”

“Thank you.” Leonard didn’t think he had ever been more grateful for his friends. Jim echoed his sentiment, with apparent sincerity but haunted eyes that made Leonard want to care for him more than ever.

“There are, uhh- theories,” Hikaru offered then, hesitantly enough that the reliability of those theories was immediately called into question. “About substances that- have enough of a similarity to blood to be used as substitutes. I don’t think they could replace human blood, but they could sort of tide you over for a while.”

“If you’re saying what I think you’re saying-” Leonard trailed off, aware of enough medicine to be reasonably sure what Hikaru’s reluctance meant, but unable to think of a sufficient threat with which to stem the flow of very much unwanted information.

“Well- yeah- that thing you’re thinking of is one of them. Although to find it in the quantities you’d need- never mind. There are also rumours about coconut water. Couldn’t hurt to try.”

“Coconut water’s pretty gross.” Jim grimaced, but both Leonard and Hikaru knew the alternative was worse. “What’s this- other thing?”

Leonard really didn’t want to be the one to say it, but clearly nobody else was going to, and he was a doctor, so he was used to giving bad news. “There are those who have theorised that blood is chemically similar to -although obviously not interchangeable with- semen.”

“Well,” Jim swallowed thickly, grimacing once more. “At least the delivery system is fun.”

Hikaru cackled as Pavel rolled his eyes. “I’ll sort you out with some dietary supplements too,” he said to Leonard, who glared at him but didn’t decline the offer. “Plenty of fresh vegetables and you’ll have to stay hydrated.”

“I am a doctor, you know.”

But Pavel was almost as bad. “There are virility spells. Although I am not sure if they would affect the quantity produced, so much as the, ahh-“

“Quality?” Hikaru suggested, not-at-all-helpfully.

“Density?” Even Jim was grinning. What the hell was Leonard letting himself in for?

“Viscosity!” Hikaru, again.

“Effectiveness.” Pavel glared at both of them, with more muttering in Russian.

“I’ll start saving mine in a Tupperware for you, if you like,” Hikaru offered then, thankfully not seriously, but it made Pavel gag and swat at his arm and Leonard feel kind of sick.

“No, thanks. I would rather starve.”

“Probably wise. I mean- you could probably just hang around in bus station bathrooms for a while if you got desperate.”

“I’m so glad I invited you over,” Leonard muttered, sipping his drink to try and quell the objections of his stomach.

“Well, there’s-“ Hikaru paused to shoot Pavel a guilty, querying look before he seemed to resign himself. “I guess- if Len likes you, then I’m happy. So if you wanted- I could spare a little blood for you.”

“Hikaru!” Pavel hissed, the air thrumming dangerously around him.

“Well, it makes sense, doesn’t it? While you’re here to stop it, if anything goes wrong. He’s trying not to kill people. I just want to help.”

The two of them held a wordless conversation with just eyes and micro-expressions, and Leonard looked away to find Jim watching him, guilty but also resigned. It felt strangely like a betrayal and Jim must have seen that in Leonard’s face because he crumpled, unresisting.

“You wouldn’t do it,” Leonard realised, in that moment. “You wouldn’t do it, if I asked you not to.”

“Of course I wouldn’t. You’ve done so much for me.”

“You don’t owe me. You definitely don’t owe me enough to starve yourself.”

“I’m not starving.”

“Not yet,” Leonard agreed, because his heart was objecting to sharing, to Jim bestowing that particular intimacy of blood-letting on anyone else, to his being so close to them that he could taste their very life force. But Leonard’s heart would object more if there were any less blood in his system, and he knew he would let Jim bleed him dry before he starved. “You should do it. If he wants. Just the- blood thing.”

“It doesn’t change anything. With us.”

Leonard hadn’t known he needed to hear that until he did, not that he entirely believed it. It was part of Jim’s nature, to feed, and if he was going to do it without killing anyone, he would need to do it with multiple people. That knowledge didn’t seem to stop Leonard from feeling irrationally possessive. He couldn’t shake the suspicion that if Jim just met a few more people, was accepted by them and care for, he might realise that he could do better than a divorced doctor willing to cast aside his usually staunch morals without more than a moment’s thought.

“Go ahead,” he said, anyway, adding in low tones he hoped the others wouldn’t quite overhead. “Just no following him home, alright?”

Jim kissed him, soft and sweet. Leonard did his best not to think about how the cool skin of his lips didn’t surprise him anymore, just felt soothing and right.

“He would have staked me on sight, if it weren’t for you,” Jim reminded him too, kissed him again, just an affectionate press, a bump of his nose against Leonard’s, a soft smile just for them. “And he’s cute but you’re hotter.”

“Your charm is endless.”

“It literally is.” Jim leaned in, bit at Leonard’s bottom lip just hard enough to make him hiss, a drop of blood welling up that Jim caught on his tongue, swallowing with an expression of blissful reverence. “You don’t have to watch.”

“I do.”

Jim shrugged, got to his feet, waved Hikaru back down when he would have stood and perched on the arm of the chair at his side.

“This is deeply unhealthy,” Pavel muttered, although he made no further objections. He was probably the only person in the room who might have been able to stop Jim physically, but he settled in his seat, sharp-eyed and alert, allowing him to continue for the moment.

“I’ve always wanted to know what it’d feel like,” Hikaru was saying, as he looked at Jim up close for the first time. “Were you this hot- before?”

“Yup.”

“Damn.”

Jim shrugged. “Didn’t quite work out, as you can see. Got me on some vamp’s radar, didn’t it?”

There wasn’t really anything Hikaru could say to that. He already had to look up to meet Jim’s eyes, but his reluctance to go further was visible and he grimaced before offering his wrist rather than his throat.

“Probably best,” Jim agreed, reaching out to cradle Hikaru’s hand in his, only his thumb exerting the slightest bit of pressure. Maybe that was all he needed.

Hikaru shivered, glared right back when Leonard narrowed his eyes. “What? He’s hot! And this is weird as fuck. Go on, just do it.”

“You comfortable?” Jim persevered, although he was watching the blood pulse beneath the skin of Hikaru’s wrist like he was hypnotised. “Relax. You may feel a little light-headed.”

“Don’t flatter your- ah, fuck-“ Hikaru hissed as Jim lowered his mouth and sank his teeth in. He tensed, too, but didn’t attempt to pull away, had to squeeze his eyes shut to stop staring. “God, it’s warm.”

“You alright?” Pavel had the presence of mind to ask, although the silver shine in his eyes suggested he already knew.

“Yeah, it’s- so weird. Like I know I should be panicking but I can’t. It would be so easy to just let him take all of it. I almost want him to.”

Pavel’s gaze flickered to Leonard. “So he does not follow your guidance on when to stop?”

“No. I’m- no help at all. Couldn’t say a word if my life depended on it.”

“I have never heard of a vampire stopping of their own volition before. Not unless interrupted. By all accounts, when feeding they are essentially rabid animals.”

“I’m not sure that Jim is exactly your average vampire.”

Jim had closed his eyes but at that, without releasing Hikaru’s wrist, he raised them to meet Leonard’s, huge and dark and intense. Leonard’s breath caught.

Of course, Pavel saw the whole thing. He shrugged. “As I say, I’m no expert. I’ll see what else I can find out.”

“Fuck, why am I hard?” Hikaru wondered, maybe not intentionally out loud, expression vague.

It made Jim choke on his laugh, though, blood vivid and a bright, arterial red trickling in a single, slow rivulet down Hikaru’s arm as the seal of Jim’s lips was broken, although with a wet sound he’d licked his puncture wounds closed and ducked his head to catch that stray trail on his tongue. It took two passes before he had cleaned the smears from Hikaru’s skin, and there were flashes of his red-stained teeth, dark and viscerally wrong. It made Jim look like a monster.

Leonard should definitely not have been hard either, had been anyway since Jim’s stupid smouldering gaze had settled on him. Jim was protecting him, and it spoke deeply to his animal instincts, long-neglected and forgotten.

“It heals right away, that is remarkable.” Pavel was examining Hikaru’s unmarred wrist critically, then with a twist of his lips and a glance in Leonard’s direction, he held out his own arm. “Okay. Do me, too.”

“Uhh-“

“You will kill Leonard at this rate. Drink, and we will work out a plan.”

“You’re sure?” But Jim was already on his feet, taking steps, leaning in, eyes dark, canines elongating enough that he only had to tilt his head a fraction when Pavel huffed with exasperatedly rolled eyes and thrust his wrist closer.

Leonard felt the razor slide of teeth in Pavel’s gasp, more stunned than pained, the racing of his heart playing out in the press of his cock against the confines of his jeans. There was something desperately wrong with him, although a glance in Hikaru’s direction told him he wasn’t the only one transfixed by the sight before them.

“It is- not unpleasant,” Pavel observed. Leonard was grateful for the disbelieving look Hikaru exchanged with him then, Pavel’s conversational tone putting them both to shame. “Like a sort of- submission. I can see how this would become addictive. I- imagine this is what doing heroin is like.”

At least he was a little breathless by the end, Jim pulling back sooner than he had with Leonard or Hikaru, or that was how it felt, in deference to his smaller stature or younger age or the way Hikaru clenched his jaw.

“Sorry, no happy endings,” Jim said, anyway, when he lifted his head. He hadn’t touched Pavel’s arm, even to steady it, except to sink his teeth in and seal his lips around the wound. Grinning and flushed, and ignoring Hikaru’s attempts to protectively hover, he sauntered over to sprawl at Leonard’s side, sighing with contentment.

God, Leonard wanted to see him like that always, a deceptively healthy colour to his cheeks, a sparkle in his eyes, a wry quirk to soft, pink lips. He was stunning and Leonard had never known with such a bone-deep certainty that he wanted everything, before.

Begrudgingly, in that moment he settled for tangling the fingers of one hand with Jim’s. He couldn’t kick his guests out only moments after they had literally bled to keep him happy and safe. That wouldn’t be right at all. Never mind that Jim smiled at him, shifted so he could lean closer, caressed Leonard’s skin with his thumb, let his gaze linger on Leonard’s lips like he was thinking about closing that gap just as much as Leonard was.

“Thank you,” Leonard said, and meant it.

“Alright, we’re going.” Hikaru sounded at least mostly good-natured. Leonard couldn’t tear himself from Jim in order to check.

“See ya.” Jim didn’t even bother to try, apparently equally lost in his examination of Leonard’s soul by way of his eyes, was already settling himself in Leonard’s lap, straddling his thighs, leaning in.

“Are you not going to make him wash his mouth out?” Pavel’s voice was tinged with horror and became fainter with every word, alongside even footsteps and followed by the slamming of Leonard’s front door.

Jim surged forwards to claim Leonard’s mouth, licking inside with no thought for care or decorum. Leonard was no better, cradling Jim’s face with both hands and digging his thumbs into the hinge of his jaw to urge him open wide. It was wet and messy and copper-tinged and Leonard pushed his hips up to meet Jim’s despite all the layers of fabric between them.

There was something wrong, a tiny voice in the back of Leonard’s mind tried to argue, with how fervently and aggressively he wanted him.

But Leonard wasn’t listening. Jim twisted out of clothing with impossible grace and it was all Leonard could do to keep up, to touch as much of that smooth, unmarred skin as he desired. Jim had no need to breathe but he stole Leonard’s air anyway in their kisses, the press of their mouths warmed by the blood pounding beneath Leonard’s skin and Jim’s bruising efforts to get closer to it. Leonard was drowning, and he wanted to get lost beneath the waves, clung to Jim as he dragged him down further, found relief in the coppery tang of Jim’s tongue and the heat of the bites and marks that were imprinted on his skin.

He looked like the victim, Leonard knew, but Jim was the one under his thrall, the one who moved with only the subtlest, slightest guidance and submitted to every one of Leonard’s needs. There was something in it, that day too, a loose-limbed lack of tension that Leonard berated himself for not having noticed before. Jim had been holding back, and Leonard had been willing, with desperate temptation before him, had wanted blindly without thinking of what it cost Jim to resist.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured against Jim’s throat, into cool skin that wouldn’t hold a claiming bite no matter how hard or for how long Leonard tried, and Jim made a soft, animal sound of distress, unwound his arms from where they’d been wrapped tightly around Leonard, regarded him with dark, grateful eyes.

“You don’t need to be.”

“I still am.”

They were still so close that when Jim smiled, too sincere to remember not to, Leonard caught a flash of sharp, white teeth. He felt his heart rate quicken, and Jim saw it, sensed it, knew.

“I want all of you,” Jim confessed, with an edge of anticipation and danger that should have made Leonard want to run, an edge that was tempered but not entirely suppressed by the time Jim added, “I want you to fuck me. Want to feel the heat of you inside me, so deep I can never lose it.”

“Bed,” Leonard snarled, with a ferocity that startled him, and he was only brought back to equilibrium by Jim’s breathless laughter as he hauled Leonard to his feet and in the direction of his bedroom.

They shed clothing as they stumbled that way, all the drapes already closed against the afternoon sun. It was a slightly jarring realisation that Leonard would never see Jim lit by rays of dawning daylight, that they would never be able to go out together. Maybe in winter they could have dinner, but he would never take Jim to the beach, or to a family garden party, never be able to wander around the farmer’s market and discuss what they wanted to eat. Jim would only ever feed on him.

It was a strange kind of grief, for a life he’d never even had, no less real than any other.

“What’s wrong?” Jim had noticed his inattention, slowed the touch of his hands, looking at him with those gorgeous, sad eyes.

“Just thinking. This’ll never be easy, will it?” Leonard touched the light flush of a cheekbone, marvelled as always at the impossible beauty of the man before him. Inhuman beauty, was maybe a more appropriate phrase.

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, sweetheart. I’m not blaming you. Just wish you didn’t have to suffer so damn much.”

“I don’t feel like I’m suffering.”

Leonard had to kiss him again, slow and sweet, soothing the ache of his heart with the slide of their tongues, soft and gentle, the only evidence of Jim’s inhuman nature the taste of him once his mouth was warmed by Leonard’s. Leonard was panting the time they separated, felt like there wasn’t enough air in the room to fuel him through this, the words to say how he felt or the time to imprint every emotion he needed to express into the pale canvas of Jim’s skin.

“I want everything,” was the only nonsensical expression he could manage, with his fingers tangled in Jim’s hair, those eyes on him, strong hands caressing his chest, mapping him out, memorising him for the benefit of an eternal mind.

With the dark, tempting murmur in his ear- “Then take it.”

Leonard could wrap a hand around Jim’s slim throat without risking harm. He could ease him back onto the bed, kneel between his splayed legs and look his fill, give Jim a warning glare that quelled him immediately when he would have fidgeted, self-conscious.

“You’re gorgeous,” Leonard insisted, and at Jim’s disbelieving, self-deprecating snort, set about alleviating his doubts. “You are,” he asserted, because Leonard was one to fall hard and fast for someone, certainly, but he had never felt the desperate, lustful compulsion of this moment. He had never wanted to etch his claim into every inch of somebody, had never experienced an almost physical wrench every time he let them go.

For a being repelled by sunlight, Jim was stunningly radiant. Leonard felt as though he could live in darkness eternal, if only he had the opportunity to do it with Jim. He traced every line of muscle, kissed Jim’s shoulders as he mapped out the shape of strong arms, Jim’s fingers twitching with the urge to resist the worshipful attention. How he could seem so confident, and yet have that shatter so quickly beneath Leonard was far beyond his comprehension.

Leonard followed the path of his hands with his lips, nipped at the thin skin of Jim’s wrist and then took each of Jim’s fingers in his mouth in turn. Jim made a strangled sound at the first, as Leonard sucked, lathed with his tongue, let Jim just tease at the suggestion of sliding into his throat.

That was a plan for another time. First, Leonard had to savour the tense, desperate, involuntary shifts of Jim’s hips while Leonard released his fingers, made his way slowly back to Jim’s chest and began to torture his gratifyingly sensitive nipples. Jim had confessed himself that he’s had a lot of sex, but Leonard was willing to bet nobody had taken their time with him before, dedicated themselves to slowly coaxing him to a blissful, effortless end. Jim didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands until Leonard tangled their fingers, pinned them to the bed at his side and made him arch, mewling, with the strain of holding back.

They had all night, and Leonard wasn’t so arrogant as to assume they would have many more, but he ignored Jim’s whispered pleas and the pounding of his own heart reflected in the waiting ache of his cock. Instead he kissed Jim’s stomach, licked at the protrusion of his hipbones and nosed at the crease of his thighs, breathed him in and wondered how he’d ever lived without any of it.

Pressing Jim’s by-then trembling hands into the sheets, with a growled warning, “Stay.” Leonard reached for lube.

“You don’t need it. I’ll heal.”

“Jesus, Jim,” Leonard ignored that suggestion, no matter how his cock twitched at the thought of the hot, tight friction that would result. He wasn’t averse to experimenting, but he’d insist on just enough lubricant to ease the passage so Jim could indulge his desire for pain, and Leonard his for taking his lovers apart, completely and utterly.

“I’ll try something like it, one day,” he warned, in hot breath against Jim’s skin that made him shiver, “I’m not going to break you, but I’ll bring you to that edge and keep you there for hours, until you’re crying and begging me to let you come.”

Somehow, Jim manages to huff a laugh. “It won’t take hours.”

“It will if I gag you.”

“Oh, what could I possibly have done to deserve you?” Jim disobeyed Leonard’s previous orders, then, by tangling his fingers in Leonard’s hair and dragging him up for a kiss, wet and needy and uncoordinated with half his attention on the long, hard press of their bodies, on the roll of his hips to that his cock pressed insistently, leaking, against Leonard’s stomach until he held him down with a snarl.

Leonard needed to sit up to crack open the lube bottle and slick his fingers, Jim’s sharp eyes on him all the while, his legs spreading almost unconsciously to accommodate Leonard between them. Hooking a hand under one knee, Leonard leaned in and pressed a kiss to Jim’s thigh, leaned his cheek against it as he searched with slick fingers, unable to tear his gaze away from Jim’s face. He saw his expression shift from impatient but adoring, to frustrated when Leonard teased at just the very beginnings of resistance, to blissful, Jim’s eyes fluttering shut.

He was so soft inside, with satiny smooth skin Leonard stroked, caressed, just coaxing Jim to open up for him, to take more than a finger, and then two. He was warmer there, where what blood he had was gathering to the stretching muscle. Leonard didn’t doubt that, had Jim not been so determinedly relaxed, had he not wanted this so much and trusted him so absolutely, he would have made no progress at all, with how quickly Jim could heal. Curious, and indulgent, he removed his fingers, flexing them idly while he watched Jim’s hole clutch at nothing. Pink and swollen, it looked like a dream, Leonard’s cock aching in anticipation.

Jim whined his objection to the wait, leaning up on his elbows to glare although his head fell back with a groan when Leonard pushed back into him, and pressed upwards. Then, Jim let himself collapse back into the sheets, cock lurching with a generous pulse of pre-come Leonard couldn’t resist licking up, to a breathless, shuddering soundtrack and the arrhythmic clench of muscle around his fingers.

“We have all night,” Leonard teased, with his voice and then his touch, with Jim squirming, beautiful body twisting in pleasure for his personal enjoyment.

He loved every single noise Jim made, but the animalistic keening when Jim didn’t know if he wanted to encourage more or beg for it to stop was his absolute favourite. So lost and overwhelmed, as he trusted Leonard to know what was best for him when he couldn’t even find the words to express what he was craving.

Leonard wanted him so senseless with need he was sobbing, desperate enough to tear the sheets apart in his frustration, but it was still their first time. It was going to be slow and easy and he’d forever remember the soft, broken cry Jim let out when Leonard first pressed just the head of his slick, aching cock past that final suggestion of resistance.

Jim shuddered, and quaked, clutched at Leonard’s arms and wrapped powerful legs around his waist. Like a vice around Leonard’s cock, he was just so impossibly tight but when Leonard hesitated, concerned, he just shoved his hips up, forcing Leonard deeper, making him grunt with guilt and pleasure and desire, all at once. And Leonard didn’t stop, but he didn’t push in just yet, either, no matter how fantastic it felt, heated pressure swiftly eroding his self-control.

“God, aren’t I hurting you?”

 _“Yes,”_ was the answering purr, though, as Jim arched, the perfect taut line of his exposed throat on display and too tempting for Leonard to resist. He leaned down to suck biting kisses into the skin, inching slowly deeper and shuddering himself at the scratch of Jim’s fingernails carving sharp lines down his back.

He had to trust Jim to state his limits, he knew. It was basically impossible for Leonard to truly hurt him. He fumbled and did his best, as he inched out and then slid back in, to get more lube where they needed it, even though Jim was pleading for more, faster, harder. Jim was telling him he was perfect, that this was what he needed, that he could take it-

Fuck, Leonard felt like a terrible person, but he shoved in, that final distance, and Jim met him halfway, seeking more, then somehow they stuttered and staggered into a rhythm, deep and punishing, hard and fast. Brutal. Everything Jim held back with everyone else, and all that Leonard didn’t dare share sparked between them at that moment, helpless pleasure and grateful pain all rolled together.

Effusively vocal, Jim never once flinched away, just gripped Leonard’s arms so hard he knew they would bruise and held on, the only thing keeping Leonard from coming just at the sight of him. He was vulnerable, open and so damn beautiful, and he took everything Leonard could give him then begged for more.

It was not the time to test their limits. Leonard found the right angle, evident in the helpless expression of pleasure on Jim’s face, gathered his own not inconsiderable strength and lost himself in the rhythm, in Jim’s moans, in the tight clutch of Jim’s body and the friction and worse, the pain that dripped down his spine and pooled in his gut with each driving thrust.

Jim had to be feeling every fractional agony at that point, the burning heat of Leonard cock sliding against the tight muscles of his hole; the stretch of his thighs, pressed against his chest as Leonard craved a kiss but could only graze their mouths together, open in helpless pleasure or the need to breathe.

Leonard was struck with an unfamiliar, horrifying urge to hear Jim scream, not with pain but with an abrupt, sharp rush of sensation that might feel like it. He bit it back, let his weight fall onto one elbow and wrapped a hand around Jim’s cock instead, coaxed a gratified groan from him and squeezed. He couldn’t manage much more, with the vicious snaps of his hips and Jim’s uncoordinated attempts to meet them, to take him deeper. 

But it was enough, after how long they’d spent building up. Reduced to breathless gasps and whines, Jim’s body shuddered, his hips stuttered and he pulsed over Leonard’s fingers and between their bodies, eyes squeezed shut then fluttering open, vague and unfocused and wet with unfallen tears.

He was so fucking beautiful. Leonard drank every single aspect of him in, and when he came, it was with an involuntary, open-mouthed sob, his body making every attempt to curl in on itself with the force of it, his face buried in Jim’s throat as the last gentle, rippling aftershocks milked every last drop of come from his cock, and he caught his breath. He filled Jim with everything he had, rolled his hips to feel the slick mess of it, to hear Jim’s satisfied purr.

Fuck. It had been so long since he’d had to work that hard, but he didn’t regret a single second of it. He was already planning more, for the next time. He ached with a deep satisfaction he hadn’t realised he’d missed.

“You didn’t bite me,” he murmured against Jim’s skin though, enjoying, too, the trail of Jim’s fingers over the raised red marks he had left down Leonard’s back, lingering physical evidence of their closeness.

“I was distracted. Fuck, I haven’t come like that in years. And-“ Jim’s voice went uncharacteristically hesitant and Leonard felt a brief stab of panic, until- “This is nice, too.”

“Yeah, it is.”

They kissed, then, both groaning for different reasons at the sensation of Leonard’s cock slipping free before Jim sucked Leonard’s bottom lip into his mouth and bit. The sharp shock of pain made Leonard’s breath hitch, but the shallow wound meant that Jim had to suckle wetly in order to draw blood, and it was tellingly soothing for both of them as they came down from their high.

Leonard felt himself settle in increments, just savoured the chance to touch and be gentle after all the intensity, tasted his own blood in the lap of Jim’s tongue and couldn’t have imagined doing it any other way.

-

Leonard woke with a start, heart racing, not entirely sure why it had even happened, if he'd been startled from a nightmare, until the pounding at the door began again.

"Alright, damnit!" he shouted, vaguely casting an eye around for Jim but finding no sign of him. Probably best he was out. Leonard didn't need any more visitors questioning his sudden procurement of a dog from apparently nowhere. Plus, Jim had a lot of energy to burn, and he could only do it at night. Leonard could only take so much. He was already dangerously anaemic.

Leonard had a bad feeling about all of it. But he also had enough of a sixth sense to know who was at the door, so he was expecting Sheriff Pike, if not the solemn expression on his face, usually so amiable.

"I'm sorry to ask this of you, Doctor. But there's been an- incident. We need you to come in. To do an autopsy."

Leonard blinked, stunned for a moment, was tired enough to ask, "Can't Puri do it?"

It made no sense for them to come and wake him up, not with an already qualified doctor working the night shift in his place. 

"Doctor Puri is dead. I'm sorry, Leonard."

The request suddenly made sense. Very little else did. Puri was -or, shit, he had been- a good man, a decent doctor. Leonard had known him for years, and for him to be gone, just like that- "What the hell happened, Chris?"

"That's what I'm hoping you can tell me."

Leonard sighed. He had thought that might be the case. "Let me get dressed."

-

Frankly, Leonard had expected the worst. Savage injuries, bleeding or blunt force trauma that he'd have to puzzle out to determine an actual course of events, a cause of death. When he stepped into the morgue, though, usually so cool and clean even in the heat of the night, he found it hot and uncomfortable. The door was open, leading out around the back of the hospital and by the looks of things it had been for some time.

"What the hell, Chapel?"

She bared her teeth at him briefly for his tone, nodded towards Sheriff Pike.

When Leonard looked to him, he explained, "It's part of the crime scene."

"It happened here?"

"Right outside. The door was open when we got here. It'll stay that way until Nyota's finished."

"Jesus." Leonard ran a hand through his hair. He was still half-asleep, discombobulated, reeling from the news of his friend's death and the fact that he was the only one available to pull the body apart, searching for a cause. "Robbery?"

"You tell me." Pike just said again. He seemed aware of how irritating that had to be. Leonard scowled.

Chapel waved in the direction of one of the exam rooms, her own expression subdued. She had worked with Puri far more directly than Leonard ever had, since generally they had only really encountered one another to hand over at the end of their respective shifts. It couldn't be easy for her to be seeing him, to have known he died only feet from their building. To have been so close by, when it happened.

"You alright?" Leonard asked her. Her answering expression was incredulous. "I can do this alone, you know."

She shook her head. Leonard sighed. "Alright. But if you need to go at any point you do it, alright?"

That earned him a small, fragile smile. He clasped her shoulder, and she nodded, eyes soft.

Taking a deep breath, Leonard stepped into the examination room. It was suitably cold in there, at least, and clear of the dust and dirt that had been blown into the main floor. On the slab -Leonard had to stop, close his eyes for a moment, hoping and praying in that moment for his friend and his afterlife- lay Puri.

"Goddamnit," he said, because it wasn't like he had genuinely believed there would be a mistake but seeing it made it real. Even in his grief, though, his mind was working. "When did this happen?"

"Forty minutes ago." Pike replied, stoic and solemn. His expression didn't change when Leonard turned to stare at him, because that couldn't possibly be right. Puri looked like he'd been dead for days, pale and frozen. He was cold to the touch, even when Leonard slid a hastily-gloved hand under his shoulder where some body heat should have been retained.

Except he would have expected to see blood pooling there too, driven by gravity and how he had been resting since his heart had stopped beating. And there simply wasn't any.

On his head, hidden beneath his dark hair where Leonard hadn't immediately seen, his head was cracked open, too. Head wounds bled profusely, but this one had barely leaked even as much as Leonard would have expected from an injury post-mortem.

He had rounded the slab to see the head injury though, and there was bruising that had been inflicted before Puri's death, faded but still visible. On his throat. Right over his jugular. No puncture wounds, but Leonard knew better than anyone how quickly those would heal.

"Chapel, will you get me his personnel file please?"

Chapel nodded, and left the room.

"Chris, I need a hand. Help me get him onto the scales in there, will you?"

Chris was a good man with a stolid heart. He didn't even flinch at the request, had probably been the one to get Puri's body into the room in the first place, helped Leonard roll him onto a blanket so they could hoist him onto a gurney, and roll him onto the exam bed in the main room, the one with the damn scale on it.

They had him back in the examination room, his weight in Leonard's notes by the time Chapel returned with the necessary information and handed it over, already turned to the correct page. It would be enough to provide an estimate, at least. They had all had their mandatory physicals in the previous few months, and Puri had never fluctuated much.

"I can't be sure, yet. But just going by weight, he's been drained of at least six or seven pints of blood. Chris. Step out for a bit, will you?"

"I'd rather stay, Doctor." 

"It gets pretty nasty."

Chris just met his eyes, and after a moment Leonard sighed. He had met far too many people who thought they could handle watching an autopsy, had seen more than he could count end up vomiting or fainting. Since he'd moved to their small town a few years ago, he'd never had Chris ask to witness. "At least sit down."

With a barely suppressed eye roll, Chris went to get a chair. And Leonard got to work, first pressing his hand over Puri's heart, reaching out for any signs of supernatural influence. He tried not to, with the dead. They left him feeling cold for hours afterwards, and usually there were only traces left. Leonard shivered as he returned to himself, and then he reached for his tools. 

Through it all, Chris watched. He was almost unflinching, too, for the full hours it took for Leonard to check everything, except for a small grimace at the sucking pop sound that came when removing the top of the skull to examine the brain.

Leonard was caught up in his work, examining a patient rather than his friend, pushing his grief down to properly examine later. He worked in silence, accustomed to Chapel's intuitive assistance and her own lack of conversation. She handed him tools before he could ask for them, and if she sniffled beneath her mask occasionally, or wiped her eyes on her sleeve, it didn't affect her work. Leonard wasn't about to patronise her by telling her to go when she'd already asked to stay.

Occasionally he stopped to make handwritten notes. With his own energy usually sent into overdrive at the hospital, Chapel's own powers and Nyota's input, he couldn't voice record them. Electronic devices rarely survived more than a few hours. 

Chris did him the courtesy of not reading over his shoulder, not that he'd have been able to decipher the handwriting anyway. In fact, he stepped out a few minutes before Leonard was finished and returned with a pot of coffee, plus pastries.

It was already light outside. Leonard cast a glance out of the window in the door, closed, by then. He sighed, washed his hands, and ate as he thought.

Nyota joined them after a while, with a nod for each of them and Puri's body, too.

"Tell him I'm sorry," Leonard had to say. His vision was blurring as he read through his notes, and he blinked them clear. God, nobody deserved to go that way, so suddenly, no chances to say goodbye.

"He knows," Nyota assured him, though. "He's almost gone. Just a wisp, now."

She helped herself to a pastry, a little distracted as she always was, in the morgue. Leonard saw her there occasionally, in the case of any sudden deaths, and she had said she'd found it difficult, surrounded by so many fragments of spirits in the process of departing their world. It was like having a lot of people calling her name at once, rarely violent or aggressive, but certainly seeking attention. Wanting to be heard.

"Could he tell you much?" Leonard asked, although he knew she wouldn't say much until he had submitted his notes into evidence. It wouldn't do for a medium to be influencing the forensic process, but occasionally she would remind him to check something obscure that he might otherwise have skipped.

"A little. Did you determine a cause of death?"

"Shock caused by blood loss. The head injury was post-mortem, or close enough to it not to matter. He's short about six pints though, and no visible wounds. Just the bruising on his neck, surrounding two rapidly-healed puncture wounds directly above the jugular."

Leonard hadn't been expecting Chris to put his head in his hands at that stage, but he did. He looked exhausted, almost bereft as he said, "A vampire, then?"

"Not my job to assume."

"It seems likely," Nyota was the one to concede, "Spock is already dealing with the prisoner."

"Prisoner?" Leonard hadn't known about that, guessed it made no difference to the nature of his work, but it still would have been nice to know. For more than one reason. Panic gripped him, but he manged to keep his voice steady when he said, "A vampire?"

He could hear Pavel's voice echoing in his head, the dire warning, _"They are like rats. You never get just one."_

"We all-but caught him in the act." Chris still had his head in his hands.

"He says he didn't do it. That he came across another vampire attacking Doctor Puri, and attempted to intervene to stop him," Nyota added.

"And then- what? Surrendered?" Leonard raised a brow, had a really terrible feeling about the whole thing. 

"Pretty much. Spock believes him, though. And Puri's account supports that story."

Nyota addressed her comments almost directly to Chris, who had raised his head to stare at her in such abject relief that Leonard had to ask, "What the hell is going on?"

"He didn't do it?" Chris ignored him, though. Leonard exchanged a look with Chapel, who rolled her eyes in return.

"Apparently it's only logical that a vampire who had just fed would be altogether healthier than- the one we have in custody."

"You're keeping him at the station?" Leonard asked. He hoped he wasn't the only one who had noticed that room was generally very well-lit.

"He's being bailed this morning. Pending further investigation. And his cooperation."

"Where the hell are you bailing a vampire to?"

Nyota just arched a brow at him.

-

It was barely-contained chaos at the Sheriff's Office, and Chris was soon accosted by some citizen or other to deal with their many problems. He clasped Leonard's shoulder before he was dragged away, into the sea of bodies.

Leonard might not have had much of a sixth sense for the supernatural, but he had one for trouble. He traipsed in the direction of the cells, found one shrouded in tarps and sheets, blocking out the sun and obscuring the view of whoever was within. He didn't know it was Jim in there, but he suspected, was just contemplating how he might be able to gain entry with Deputy Hendorff guarding the door, making conversation with one of the civilian staff.

"I'm telling you, the old ways are the best. Stake through the heart. Cut off its head. It killed Puri and it'll turn on us, first chance it gets."

Leonard felt a long-suppressed rage simmering in his veins, so palpable the air crackled with it. It took him a moment to realise it wasn't his own.

 _"He_ is a sentient being." Pavel hadn't raised his voice, didn't need to. Various people in the vicinity turned to look, anyway. "And if you want to talk about the old ways, what would you propose for me? Drowning me in the river? Perhaps burning me at the stake?"

"It's not the same and you know it."

"I am Jewish, too, if you have anything to say about that."

The whole room thrummed with a threatening energy, the air tight, like the oxygen was being sucked from it. Anyone with any sense took a step back. Leonard stayed where he was, and so did Hendorff, until Pavel, with an authority he so rarely tapped into, urged, "Move."

Hendorff did. Pavel rolled his eyes and then, despite not having acknowledged that he had seen Leonard in any way, added. "Ah, Doctor. Would you mind attending with me? I believe all prisoners are entitled to both sustenance and appropriate medical care. No matter their background."

"Of course," Leonard said, before anybody could argue. It looked like a couple of people were thinking about it, but Pavel ignored them, had two bags of blood in one hand and a key in the other, so he opened the door without further conversation. A number of people visibly recoiled, as though they were concerned something might jump out at them at any moment.

Inside the cell, with the door closed, it was necessarily dark, the air close where the breeze could not prevail. Pavel lit an orb he left hovering in the middle of the space to illuminate it and Leonard would have been on his knees at the side of the bench in an instant, reaching out for Jim, if not for Pavel's hand on his shoulder, preventing him from getting any closer. 

Jim barely stirred. He looked dead, laid there, still, not breathing. Was dead. Leonard held back a sob, had already lost someone today and was not in a good place to be dealing with the imagery it all conjured up. 

Pavel squeezed, a reassurance and a warning. Jim's eyes slitted open, just a little, reflecting the strange white light of the orb, and when Pavel slid the first of the blood bags across the floor, towards him, he reached out. He picked it up off the floor without sitting up, rolled onto his side with a hiss and a grimace of pain that made Leonard's fingers twitch. He wouldn't meet their eyes, fumbled at the bag before tearing it open with trembling hands, didn't even have the slightest hint of reluctance when it came to feeding right in front of them, laid there for a moment more before blinking to clear his vision.

"I have another. Can you sit up?" Pavel asked, managing a great deal more professionalism than Leonard was able to, at that moment. The walls gave the illusion of privacy, but Leonard didn't doubt that everything they said would be overheard. Silence was the best he could manage, at that moment, seeing Jim struggle to right himself, hearing him hiss in pain and clutch at his ribs, just where his shirt was badly torn and bloodstained.

At least he caught the bag Pavel threw to him, although he fumbled it a little, his enhanced reflexes clearly having suffered for his injuries and the time that had passed since he'd been fed. He downed the pint of blood, tipping his head back and pouring it in, barely pausing to swallow, tossed the empty bag aside, licked his lips and wiped his mouth.

Then he finally met Leonard's eyes, his own so wide and distraught that Leonard reached for him again. Pavel let him move, that time, and Leonard sunk to his knees at Jim's feet, taking Jim's face in his hands to stroke the skin of his cheeks with both thumbs. 

_"I'm sorry,"_ Jim mouthed, and Leonard could do nothing, had so much to say and so little opportunity to get the words out that he had to kiss him, had to stroke his hair back from his face and insistently sink his teeth into Jim's bottom lip until he got the hint. Jim just grazed him with a sharpened fang, sucked at the blood that welled slowly from his tongue until they had both stopped trembling.

Pavel looked disgusted, levelled them both with his least impressed look, once they were done. Jim winked at him.

"Are you injured?" Leonard was able to ask, with a reasonably normal voice. Hopefully the hoarseness could be explained by his lack of sleep.

"Cracked a few ribs, I think. I was- clawed pretty hard."

"Clawed?"

"Yeah, that- other vampire. Shifted into a bear. Got me pretty bad." Without prompting, Jim lifted his shirt, showed the pink and healing skin along three brutal claw gouges in his side. Leonard set his hands to them, even though he could already see their progress, but Jim's expression softened so much at the touch that it was worth enduring Pavel's still-unimpressed expression.

"Anything else?"

"I don't think so. Just a few scrapes. I haven't- fed, properly in a while, so the injuries took a lot out of me. I'm- sorry that I couldn't save that guy. I tried."

Jim's voice was plaintive, desperate to be believed. Leonard drew him in with a hand on the back of his neck to kiss his cheek, hard and chaste, unable to find the words, leaving Pavel to fill the silence.

"They are collecting evidence on what happened as we speak. Until they are finished, you will be bailed. To stay with me."

"With- you?" Jim stared.

"My house is the most secure in town. It is the safest option."

"'Cause of your- powers?"

Pavel held out a hand, rocked it back and forth. _Sort of._

_-_

"Why in the hell do you have a steel-reinforced basement?" Leonard asked. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know, actually, but Scotty gave a less disturbing answer than the one he had expected.

"Well I can't exactly work in the house with this one, can I?"

Pavel glared at them both in response to Scotty's gesture in his direction. Of course it was true; his powers caused anything electronic to act strangely and with the technical, difficult work Scotty did, they wouldn't be able to risk it.

They stood in Pavel and Scotty's hallway, staring at the door that led down into the basement. It could be barred from either side, and it was reinforced with steel, same as the walls. It was without a doubt the most secure place in town.

"So, what, he stays caged until Pike can figure out what the hell to do with him?" Leonard risked asking. He didn't really want to know the answer to that one either, suspected he already did.

"The cage is not for him, in the way that you think." Pavel said, "It is for his protection more than the town. They will lynch him given half a chance."

"They think he killed Puri?"

Scotty was the one who shrugged, sipping his coffee. He was remarkably calm about the whole thing, considering it had been sprung on him that morning. "Well you've got to admit it does seem far-fetched. That a vampire kills him only to be killed by another inexplicably heroic vampire, leaving no trace of the original vampire? Sounds like a bad YA novel."

"Don't say that, it makes me the uncharismatic love interest." Leonard glared when Scotty eyed him speculatively. "Why can't he just stay with me, in his dog form?"

Pavel shook his head. "I did not tell the sheriff he has been associating with you. I would suggest you keep it that way. There would be a lot of questions." 

"I didn't do anything wrong!"

"It does not matter. And- well, I am sure he will tell you. Here they come, now."

Well, that didn't bode well. Leonard followed Scotty into the kitchen to grab much-needed coffee while Pavel went to assist Chris. It was still sunny, but through a combination of the sheriff's car, one of Pavel's spare cloaks and the use of darkness spells, they managed to get him inside without injury.

He stopped dead when he saw the basement door, though, eyes wide, tension visible in his whole body. If he'd had a functioning heart, Leonard didn't doubt it would have been pounding.

"I'm not going in there."

"It's not as bad as it looks." Scotty told him, surprisingly conversationally for someone who had already admitted he found it difficult to believe Jim hadn't murdered someone the previous night. "It's actually pretty cosy."

"It's a prison cell."

"Uhh, it's a suitably protected workshop, actually-"

"Scotty," Pavel warned. 

From his position in the kitchen doorway, Leonard could see Chris, looking uncharacteristically worn, exhausted even by the standards of their day. "You alright, Sheriff?"

“I’ll be fine.” Chris offered him only the ghost of a smile, made his way over to Leonard while the others continued their bickering. “It’s been a long day.”

“Will you let me help?”

“You’ve been up almost as long as I have, Leonard, that wouldn’t be fair.”

“Haven’t exactly done a whole lot of healing today, though. Come on, sit down. Your head must be pounding. You want a cup of coffee?” Leonard knew the kitchen well enough to get Chris into a seat at the breakfast bar, to find a mug and fill it with coffee, setting it within Chris’ reach. “Will you let me try, at least?”

Pale, blue-grey eyes examined him thoroughly before Chris nodded. His jaw was clenched, the tension in him clear, and Leonard moved slowly, setting his thumbs to Chris’ temples, just gently, threading fingers through his hair. It was a little intimate, but they’d been through a lot, that day and generally, and Chris’ eyes fluttered closed at the first searching query of Leonard’s power.

He was making an effort to be soothing, to seek out and smooth the jagged veins of tension, anxiety and guilt that ran through Chris’ mind, when he heard the first low words.

“He’s my godson, you know.”

“Who?”

Chris just looked at him, then, waiting for the pieces to slide into place. Jim was Chris’ godson. It explained why he’d been so averse to Leonard notifying the sheriff of his presence. His natural inclination towards enchantment.

“I met him,” Leonard realised, then, too. He had been new to the town, many years ago, invited to some sort of church potluck. Pre-occupied by thoughts of his new job, his impending divorce, his father’s illness, he had drummed up only the politest interest in the sulky teenager who glared balefully at him from behind Chris’ back. 

There had been something about him even then, though, a sort of wild energy that fought containment. Nothing Leonard thought too much about, at the time, other than in what he dismissed as a sort of morbid fascination with the boy, too young for him but attention-grabbing all the same. Leonard had no clear memories of how he looked, except for those startling eyes, vivid even before Jim’s transformation. Before his death.

“You did. He was a handful, back then.” Chris smiled a little ruefully, something fond in his eyes. “He’d grown up convinced his parents didn’t want him and by the time I had a chance to try and tell him that I did, it was too late. He wouldn’t listen. And I didn’t know how to break through to him. I haven’t seen him in three years.” Chris pulled out of Leonard’s reach to put his head in his hands. “I always worried about him. I loved him. But I thought he could take care of himself. I should have tried harder. I thought- I thought he needed to get it out of his system so that he could come home, but-“

Leonard had never seen him so distressed, but he suspected that his efforts to heal had had some part in knocking all that emotion free, in pulling apart Chris’ mental defences. Maybe he should have left it a little longer, was going to do all he could, anyway. “He came home. He could be anywhere in the world, Chris. But he’s here. He tried to save Puri. He’s not gone.”

“He’s dead, Leonard. There is no greater failing, for a parent.”

“He needs you now more than ever.”

“He never needed me.”

“Maybe not to survive. But to live? I don’t know what he’s thinking, but the fact is you’ve got another chance. He’s here and so are you. Don’t waste it.”

Leonard thought that might have sunk in. It got Chris to raise his head, sit up a little straighter and meet his eyes, at least.

“May I?” Leonard asked, as he reached out, again. He could do it without touching, but the more skin contact he had, the easier and more effective it was, and Chris was right. It had been a long day for him, too, and the knowledge that he would have to leave Jim there, trapped and alone, was making his heart hurt. He already missed him with a physical ache in his chest, wanted to just curl up with him under blankets so they could both touch and feel and remind each other that they were still there, too.

Chris’ eyes locked onto his when Leonard’s fingers touched his skin, intimate and penetrating. Leonard let his instincts guide him, mind half in another realm, traversing the pathways to what he had identified as wrong and neutralising the hurt he found, as best he could.

Vaguely, he was aware of another presence approaching, knew enough to identify it as Jim before Chris’ gaze shifted but didn’t predict the wave of emotion that resulted, that made his vision flare bright and painful before he broke their physical contact with a hiss.

“Shit, sorry, are you alright?” Chris reached for him, only to be blocked by Jim, when Leonard flinched back.

Leonard blinked the sparks from his vision, hadn’t noticed Jim moving, waved off the twin concerned looks he was receiving. “You still hungry, kid?” He asked, felt something in his heart squeeze as Jim had to hide the way the light in his eyes dulled with a downcast, guilty look. He wasn’t just a patient, but it was all they could have, in that moment, the only way Leonard could show that he cared without giving them away to Chris. He hoped Jim understood that. They would have to explain themselves soon, but it wasn’t the time.

“Yeah, Doc. But I’ll be alright. Pavel has threatened to see how I get on with coconut water.”

“I’m not sure that’s enough, on its own,” was all Leonard permitted himself to say on the subject. Jim’s eyes were beautiful, peering shyly at him from beneath lowered lashes, an appropriate level of gratitude for his input. His throat ached where Jim’s fangs would sink in, where his life’s blood would pour from him to give Jim what he hungered for, what he needed. He could almost taste the copper of Jim’s kiss on his tongue.

If Chris noticed his staring, he said nothing about it. “Spock agrees. We’ll get past this, Jim.”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Leonard itched to reach for him, to make offers he couldn’t possibly justify. Chris was torn, too, his own protective instincts showing after so long left dormant.

Pavel was less sympathetic. “For an immortal being, you act a lot like a child,” he said as he stalked over to the fridge where he collected a carton of coconut water. “You will be fine until tomorrow. Scotty has already volunteered to donate blood in the morning. So stop complaining-“ he thrust the carton into Jim’s hands, then strode out, hooking his fingers into the back of Jim’s collar and dragging him along too without even the slightest suggestion of effort despite Jim’s clear reluctance and superior strength- “And take a look at your new accommodation before you dismiss it outright.”

“I dont- want-“

“I do not care what you want, this is what you need. Now, it is no Maskva Saint Regis, but you are in my house, and you will listen. I will bring you something to read.”

He all-but threw Jim through the doorway into the basement. With a single wave of his hand, he steadied Jim where he might have fallen, then slammed the door and dropped the bar to seal it.

“I am going to bed. I need some sleep before the angry mob arrives. Scotty-“

“I’ll find him a book or two, love.”

“Thank you.”

“He won’t like that,” Chris -more foolishly than bravely, Leonard though- piped up. 

Pavel stopped. He turned around, eyes blazing. “You know what, Chris? I do not like being woken up at 2am to assist with a law enforcement case despite having no paying role as an officer. I do not like standing around, awaiting instructions, being asked by all and sundry what they should do, as though I am permitted any sort of authority. And I do not like being expected to babysit stray vampires who do not have the common decency to say thank you for all I have done. _And yet here I am.”_

The windows shook with the force of his delivery. The air felt thick with tension, oppressive and heavy. Chris’ knuckles where white where they gripped the edge of the counter. Leonard’s head swam. The stray energy made his vision flicker like an old television set. Chris had to be half-blind with it. Stupid comment or not, Leonard reached out to touch his hand, to try and ground him a little, convince him to loosen his grip.

“It’s probably best you go,” Scotty said. “You can come back later. Bring your torches and pitchforks, you can join the party.”

“If there’s anything the Sheriff’s Department can do-“ Chris began to offer, ever-vigilant, even as he reeled.

“We’ll take care of him, Sheriff.”

It was a dismissal, clearly. Pavel had disappeared upstairs, but Leonard made a note to apologise to him later. It was easy to forget how young he was, sometimes, with all his power and intelligence. He’d done so much for him, had always come to his aid when he’d called.

Chris was looking a little subdued, too, when they made it out onto the street, blinking in the sunlight. There was only so much Leonard could do for him, and they both needed sleep more than anything else, by that point. Still, he made sure he got Chris home, rather than letting him escape in the direction of the Sheriff’s office, where he might sneak in to do some more work.

And then he went home to collapse in bed, himself. He was exhausted, just not quite enough to fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He still had a few moments in which to reach out towards the other side of his bed, missing having Jim there, before his eyes closed against his will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can thank the wonderful, delightful, amazing [Sobre](https://lejoursobre.tumblr.com/) for making some wonderful fanart for this fic and inspiring me to finally finish this chapter.
> 
> Please take a look at chapter 1 to see the wonderful artwork, if you haven't already!

**Author's Note:**

> I’m also on [Tumblr](https://aishahiwatari.tumblr.com/)


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